


Some Things You Just Can't Bury

by permanentchaos



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Canon Divergence, M/M, Mary survives au, The other foxes make an appearance, briefly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 08:47:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12955614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/permanentchaos/pseuds/permanentchaos
Summary: There are memories. Things that flood his subconscious, overwhelming him until he can no longer work out the fact from fiction. Neil Josten was never just Neil Josten, he has been any number of people starting with Nathaniel Wesninski.Nathaniel Wesninski is dead, or so he likes to think. There are no more lies, or truths for that matter, that connect him to this reality. Except one. Nathaniel Wesninski swore he would take it to his grave, and he passed that mantle on to Neil Josten. Secrets, lies...truths, they all have a cost. Some things you just can’t bury.





	Some Things You Just Can't Bury

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dancyon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancyon/gifts).



> This is for the lovely Dancyon for the All For The Game Exchange on Tumblr! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it! Sorry it’s such a beast, it kind of got away from me! Happy Christmas!

It’s a blur. A whirlwind of colour and noise that Chris cannot allow himself to escape from. There’s a thick lining of blood coating his hands as his finger trembled over a trigger, pulling and pulling and pulling until-

 

Someone’s yelling at him and the acrid smell of smoke envelops him as he strains himself in heaving her weight up and across the two of them. She does not balance well, and her feet drag along the floor in a strange rhythmic beat. Chris feels like he should turn and that they should stop, however his mother never has been one for licking wounds until she’s all the way across five states and three different cars. Huffing, he grinds his teeth until she’s hissing in his ear, her voice raspy and low. 

  
_ “Keep going Abram, don’t stop.” _

 

They make it to the car in what Abram feels is probably just pure dumb luck and he all but throws his mother into the passenger seat before tearing around the front of the car, slamming the door and slamming his foot on the gas until the screech of tires gives in and their shooting down the highway. 

 

His mother grasps at her abdomen and Abram feels something cold and forlorn slipping through his veins. She’s hurt badly and although this isn’t for the first time, Abram takes note of her pale complexion and wheezing breath to know this is something else. Mary Hatford is far too quiet, unknowing that her silence is all but crippling to her seventeen year old son. Abram takes a moment, chewing on his lip and questioning the decision not to just hit the brakes, change direction and head toward the nearest hospital. There’s enough cash and hold on their fake IDs to get them through a night, and he can always bust her out so they can move on through California and head maybe south across the border. Easing his foot off the pedal, he casts a another look across the dash, Mary pays him no mind instead she’s staring steadfast straight ahead eyes scrunched in pain.

 

“Mom-”

  
“Keep driving.”

 

There’s a bitter taste of blood in his mouth as Abram bites through the skin of his lip too hard at his mothers words. He can’t work out if she simply doesn’t care or doesn’t want to acknowledge the situation she’s about to put them in if they don’t stop soon. There are no words he knows the could possibly say that would alter whatever plan Mary Hatford has in mind and any attempt would lead to an unnecessary argument and a quick backhand if he wasn’t careful. He swallows and takes a breath, counting as high as he can in every language he knows until enough time has passed that the sun is starting to slowly cast deep oranges hues across the horizon. 

 

A small thud to his right distracts Abram enough for him to shoot a glance over at the passenger seat. His mother is slumped against the window, eyes closed and mouth slack. He twists the wheel violently, causing the car to shift and slide across the road until he hits dirt. 

  
“Mom!” He pulls himself across the dash and curses when the seatbelt pulls him back again. Grunting in frustration he clicks the lock of the belt and lets it twist back before leaning over once more, clammy hands desperately clawing at his mother's neck, trying to find a pulse. There’s a steady beat that differs from his own, racing heart. She’s alive, though when he places a hand over hers he finds her abdomen sticky and swollen. Abrams fingers shake as he tries to asses the damage, there isn’t enough in their battered packs that will do anything more than ease the bleeding from outside but he’s not a doctor, and guessing the extent of his mother's injuries will only get him so far. It’s painfully obvious however, that this isn’t something he can simply stitch up and they can move on from. He sucks in a shaky breath and pulls back, slumping into the driver’s seat, shaking the agitation from his hands. 

 

They need to move, he needs to get her to a hospital otherwise his mother is going to die in this crappy car and Abram will be alone. They’ve not gotten too far out of city limits, but turning back or alternating course would mean heading further inland of California rather than over the border like they want to. Biting his lip, his wonders how angry his mother will be when she finds out that he’s not alluding his fathers men like she would have wanted and instead risking his own safety for hers. 

  
_ Fuck it. If she bitches about me about it at least she’ll be alive to bitch about it.  _

 

Abram grabs at his seatbelt, clicking it in place before hitting the gas and spinning the car around, ignoring every fiber of his being telling him that this is a bad idea. 

 

“Hold on mom, hold on.”

 

~

 

It’s been an hour since Abram had pulled back into the nearest town, forty since he’d found the closest hospital and twenty since he’d last seen his mother. Their IDs have just stretched beneath the notice of the receptionist as Abram plays Chris, the terrified son of a woman just attacked. Abram could only watch as his mother was wheeled away and the heavy set of panic finally settled in his stomach. This has truly been a stupid idea and Abram could only guess at the things his mother was...is, going to say, going to do, when she is finally coherent enough to realise what he has done. Pacing up and down the corridor did nothing to reign in the anxiety that was eating away at him. The doctor had been by only twice, once to update Chris on his mother's condition and another to invite him to their family waiting room. Chris had politely declined of course, Abram was internally seething. He hated hospitals, hated everything that went with them including the falsity of doctors. She was either going to live or going to die, there was no reason for the sugar coated niceties they seemed to want to drown him in. 

 

Being finally left alone meant that Abram had time to think and of course doubt, all the decisions he had now made up until this moment. As each minute passed by he realised that there would be absolutely no way that he was going to be able to get her out of here within the next two hours. They had been here too long already and if their fathers men were trailing them….

 

It wasn’t worth thinking about. Not yet, not now. Abram needed to keep a clear head, to think of a plan. Winding himself through the mass of bodies in the placid hospital corridor he approached the main reception desk, the woman behind it sat absentmindedly filing her nails and paid no attention to Abram who stood in front of her expectantly. He allowed her another second or so before before he coughed, she sighed putting down her file, nails clicking against the desk surface. 

 

“Can I help you?” 

 

“My mom. Marissa Hargreaves? I er, I gotta go call my dad. He’ll want to know what’s happened. I’ll be outside if she wakes up.” The receptionist, Melanie, Abram noted by her name badge, looked like she really couldn’t have given a damn where he went, let alone what he was planning to do. Abram rolled his eyes and took that as his hint to leave, he wasn’t planning on going far, but it wouldn’t pay for at least the doctor not to know where he had gone. He didn’t want to leave his mother, but it wasn’t safe here and he needed to at least scout the area to see if anyone had followed them back through the city. It was unlikely, but Mary and Abram had never worked on theoreticals. 

  
Lighting up a cigarette was almost relaxing when Abram stepped outside. The air wasn’t too brash and the early evening light that had doused the sky in a orange haze when they arrived had long since disappeared, enveloping the day in a black stream of night. Abram pulled the zipper of his hoodie up, trying to hold what little warmth he had into its aged confines. He needed a new one really, they had learnt to adapt and survive with even the most minimal of clothes but even this was getting too raggedy for Abram to continue using it. He was starting to get looks and for someone so keen on blending it that was never a good thing. He took a drag of nicotine, revelling in the way the smoke filtered up through the air. 

 

The parking lot wasn’t particularly full, and he could make out the comings and goings of cars and people as they maneuvered themselves around each other, nothing had caught his eye until something had. He’d parked the car to the right back part of the hospital, barely out of sight but close enough he wouldn’t have had to drag his mother too far across the tarmac to the emergency room entrance. Two men were idly waiting in their car not five spaces away from theirs, to anyone else this wouldn’t seem unusual, but Abram knew better. His heart beat faster when the sinking feeling of suddenly being out of time dawned on him. There wasn’t a lot he could do in this situation, but if he didn’t do anything sooner or later they were going to take their own initiative and come looking in the hospital. All it would take was a few well placed questions and his mother would be left bare and vulnerable. Abram wasn’t a fighter, he was a runner, and he knew that there was only one thing that could really work in getting these men as far away from the hospitals as he could. 

 

Raising his hood so it covered his face, he dropped his cigarette to the ground and stomped on it to put it out. He couldn’t go back into the hospital, not if he wanted to make it look like this had only been a pit stop. They knew his mother was injured and he hoped that they had figured the two of them were only here to blag some medicinal items rather than checking in as a patient. He was relying heavily on their knowledge of he and his mothers already flighty nerves that would lead them to follow him rather than hang around. Maybe if he could distract them long enough to think he was meeting his mother, rather than abandoning her, he would give the impression the two of them had left the city for good. It would certainly give Mary enough time to recuperate, Abrams only regret would be not leaving his mother a sign, a message, that he had been forced to leave. He hoped she would assume that had been the situation, that they would somehow find each other later. His father, along with his own long list of lackeys, had never once believed the two of them would ever split, he hoped that knowledge was at least enough to keep her safe. 

 

He knew that the moment she woke up Mary would be dressing herself and walking out that doors before anyone could say otherwise, he knew the worry and anxiety he would cause when she realised he had left without her. There was no other choice, no other clear path Abram could see that he could take. Mary Hatford had sacrificed so much of his life to keep him safe, it was only right he made the same sacrifices for her. 

 

He timed the gait of his walk perfectly, measured each stride and step. Hunched his body over sparingly, to look like someone was hiding, withdrawing from the scene of a crime. He grasped at the strap of his duffle desperately, hoping it looked like the weight was giving him some sort of trouble. Abram couldn’t get a good enough look at the two but he hoped to his core that it wasn’t the Malcom siblings that had tailed him this time. They hadn’t been with his father during the confrontation, but Abram knew that didn’t mean much. 

 

“Hey!” Abram turned, eyes catching as one of them clambered out the car, hand reaching to the inside of his jacket. Abram gave an over exaggerated huff of his duffle to his shoulder and took off running.

 

_ Hook, line and sinker. _

 

There was a rev of an engine as the car that had followed them pulled into reverse and tailed him. There was no way he was going to be able to outrun the car, but having paid close attention to their surroundings when he pulled into the hospital mere hours ago, he knew there lie a long weave of backstreets and pathways through the decrepit city apartment blocks that he could certainly use to his advantage. His feet slapped the ground in a repetitive motion and all Abram could think of was his mother, waking up and realising he had left without her. 

 

_ I’m sorry mom.  _

 

_ ~ _

 

The smell of burning skin tore through him as he choked, mouth tangy with the taste of blood that dribbled down his face. 

 

“You listening Junior? Hey.”

 

_ Thump.  _

 

Nathaniel is listening but it’s hard to hear over the roaring in his head. Over the pain that strikes through his veins like electricity. He’s listening, but he can barely hear. 

 

“Where’s the bird, hm? We’ve had some time dig around since we figured out where you were, but there’s no sign of her anywhere. Tetsuji says you told them she’s dead. He was sure you were telling the truth. Me, I’m not so trusting.”

 

“She’s dead.” 

 

The words were out before he knew it, Nathaniel had thought of this, of what he would ever say, if anyone ever found him. Of what he would do to keep her safe. Dead at least would give her a fighting chance, a head start should any ever try to track his mother. When it became obvious that he was probably never going to see his mother again, or any time soon for that matter, Nathaniel had thought of all the ways he could explain her disappearance if anyone had caught up to him. So long as everyone thought Mary Hatford was no more, it meant they couldn’t see her coming. 

 

“Do we believe him?”

  
“Might as well be sure.” Nathaniel had been brought up on pain, had greeted it time and time again like a good friend, but Lola had always been better at coming up with ways to destroy him. Over and over again, she cut him, burnt him, his mind scrambling around to hold some semblance of dignity. He wanted to appear strong, he didn’t want Lola to see that she was getting to him. 

 

_ Keep her safe.  _

 

“She’s dead. She’s dead, she’s dead.” Over and over again, until the pain stopped and there was only silence. 

 

~

 

When Abram next saw his mother, she was like an angel. Fearless and ethereal, piercing through the darkness and his fathers mania like she always did. A figure, a buffer, between him and the violence that held the Wesninski line. 

 

“ _ Abram _ .” 

 

He could hear her own surprise, her own relief and disgust, her panic and anger. She was not expecting to find him here, perhaps she had thought him dead herself. He couldn’t work out if finding him here, right at this moment at the mercy of his father, would bring her solace or not. 

 

“Bloody hell. Nathaniel?” His uncle was another surprise, unpleasant or not he hadn't quite worked out. Neither of them had moved from their spots by the entranceway, too fixated on his beaten and broken body. His father however, laughed at the sight of his mother. He was knelt surrounded by a dozen of what must have been his uncles men. Poison dripped from his mouth as he about defiance and loyalty, about the Moriayamas and possessions. Even at the mercy of another, he father still obviously felt he held all the cards. Abrams eyes flickered between his mother and his father, Marys face twisting in an anger that he had never seen before. An anger that was obviously only reserved for his father. She didn’t blink as she reached for her own gun, holstered somewhere beneath the folds of her jacket, she didn’t blink as she pulled the trigger and shot twice directly in her husband's head. Stuarts “don’t look,” was lost to the sound of bullet meeting flesh. His mother didn’t stop when his father hit the floor she pulled the trigger over and over again until the magazine was empty. Abram didn’t even have a second before his own body rebelled and he retched. His mother by his side in an instant, her voice so soothing his heart clenched at how much he had missed it. 

 

“Mary.”

 

“No.” His mother didn’t look away from him, not even for her brother. A hand rubbed circles on his back in a reassuring motion, though when Abram turned to look at her he couldn’t stand the look in her eyes. There was a sadness that was meant for only him to see, an accusation of events that had passed.  _ Look what you’ve done Abram.  _

  
“Leave him.” 

 

“No.” Her voice was abrupt, clear that she was ending the conversation. Stuart Hatford however, was not one who took no for an answer. He sighed and and waved an arm on Nathaniel's general direction. 

 

“We don’t have time for this fucking leave him, he’s our only ticket out of here.” Mary tsk’d and shot a glare at her brother. Abram almost struggled to follow the conversation, his brain still wired and fuzzy. 

 

“I’m not leaving him here Stuart.” 

 

Nathaniel finally found his voice, “the Mori-”   
  
“No. Do not speak that name, you cannot pull them into this they weren’t expecting their butcher to die and we only have a small window in which their favour.” His uncle turned away from him and placed a hand on his sister’s shoulder, squeezing it slightly.

 

“We have done enough. Let the FBI take him, be smart. He needs medical attention and we cannot take him where we need to go you know this.” His mother shook her shoulder in a sign for Stuart to remove his hand, her discomfort and anger at the situation obvious. His hand slipped away as he moved off, directing his own people out. Mary turned to her son running a hand through his mop of dirty hair and frowning at his appearance before she pulled him into an awkward embrace. Her hands cupped his head gently, the warmth of them seeping through his skin. It had been a long time since his mother had ever taken to him with a tenderness like this, and the reality of it had almost etched itself out of his mind. She was a dream, and angel in disguise. She had saved him, always, always saving him. She spoke softly in his ear and it had been so long that Abram couldn’t help himself when he closed his eyes to revel in the sound of her voice. 

 

“Don’t be stupid, watch what you say. I’ll come back you, I promise. No matter what happens, I will come back for you Abram.” A second later she was gone, disappearing from his life once more like she had never existed at all, replaced instead by his uncle who was leading out of the tunnel to the garage, guiding him to his knees. A panic rattled in his chest when he couldn’t see his mother. 

 

“Mo-”

 

“Not now. Remember what we said, this is how you survive.” Abram nodded, uttering a simple, “I get it.” His uncle didn’t respond, he was simply enveloped into the darkness and was lost to the night and when the FBI filtered through the shadows towards him Abra, muttered it again, and again and again, until that was all that he could say.

 

~

 

Neil expected to hear something when he finally returned to Palmetto, the silence and unknowing was a heavy feeling on his mind. Andrew never once faltered, an unending strength which got Neil by from day to day and in only four muttered words, shared in the hush of the night, did Andrew really understand Neils restlessness. 

 

_ “My mother is alive.” _

 

As each day passed Neil had begun to question the events of Baltimore. Was Mary Hatford really there? Or a desperate mirage created by Neils own mind in the trauma of his fathers brutality? Was she ever really there? Or did he just wish it so? Was it a hopeful thought that she would be the hand of his father's death? 

 

“Stop being an idiot. You know the truth.” 

The rooftop, a sanctuary for both himself and Andrew, became a hidden spot where he could escape the memories of Baltimore if not even for a while. While Mary Hatford would not be forgotten, she was regulated to no more than a lonely figure haunting Neils nightmares until she next became a reality. 

 

_ Mom. Where are you? _

 

~

 

“Neil Josten, a Stuart Hatford is here to see you?”

 

Stuart dismissed the guard with a look, turning back to his nephew only when the other man was well out of earshot. He stood with his arms folded, peering at hims through the plexiglass separating the inner ring from the stands. 

 

“Your mother sends her regards.” Fire tore through Neils veins. 

 

“Where is she?”

 

“England. I have business to attend to so I’ve been going back and forth. She wanted to come herself, watch your big match, but in light of recent...events, it was thought best she returned to the UK.” Neil allowed himself a moment for that to register, that his mother was in England, which meant she wouldn’t be coming back for him like she promised. There was a wave of relief that he didn’t think he realise he had even been holding out for. The foxes were his home now, a key that Andrew had given him to hold on to. His mother coming back threw a wrench into all those plans, his obligation to her, he feared, would overthrow his desire to stay at Palmetto. 

 

“We would have come for you sooner, but we were told not to interfere until he made a decision. Your father’s death left a void that is not easy to fill. Little boss is cleaning house and cutting losses. Your mother would have been one of them had she not left when she did. Luckily she’s too far out of reach for him to really put the effort in, instead he’s focussing state side. Taking out people from California to South Carolina…” Neil listen as his uncle listed how exactly Ichirou was shaping his new empire, interest peeking at the mention of doctors. The mere thought of Proust caused a inescapable shiver of anger through him, though the agreement that it would be something his uncle would look into gave him faith that Proust wasn’t one to be a problem for anyone else in the future. 

 

Neil followed along carefully with this uncle, listening as he was confirmed the precarious situation between both the Hatfords and the Moriyamas, ending in an awkward silence in which Stuart looks uncomfortable in carrying on the conversation. 

 

“That brings me onto another matter.” Neil eyed his uncle warily, but nodded for him to continue. 

 

“She gave me a long list of what exactly she wants me to tell you. The long and short of it is she wants you to come home. I told her you made a place for yourself here. Not that any of that matters anymore when you’ve gone ahead and bought yourself into this and made deals.” 

 

“You’re right.” Stuart sighed, shaking his head. 

 

“Both of you are as thick headed as each other. Don’t change your number, no doubt she’ll want to stay in touch.” 

  
“Okay.” Neil knew there was not much more to say, his mother knew where he was, but the current political positioning of the family wouldn’t allow her much room to move. Whatever she wanted, if she wanted to see him again, would now be left down to her to make the first move. 

 

“Chin up kiddo, we can’t protect you anymore so don’t give them a reason to regret investing in you.” Neil nodded and his uncle took that as his leave, barely sparing a glance at Neil before he turned and disappeared into the crowd. 

 

~

 

Neil was in Columbia when the message came through. 

 

_ June 12th. 106 Earle str. _

_ 4pm.  _

 

He didn’t recognise the number but he didn’t need to and for the first time in a long time, an unknown number didn’t leave him with filled with dread, instead there was a new feeling of hope. 

 

~

 

Neil was a ball full of nerves when June 12th finally rolled around. The rest of the foxes had all gathered in their dorm a few hours before he was due to leave and he had yet to find out how they all had suddenly come savvy to his business. Andrew had shrugged when Neil had questioned about it, but the fact he had been trailing around after him all day had really told Neil all he needed to know. 

 

“I’m coming back.” Nicky sighed, throwing his arms dramatically over his face as he slumped into the couch. 

 

“I’m pretty sure those will be your famous last words.” Dan sighed, rubbing her forehead in frustration. 

 

“What Nicky is trying to say, is that we know she’s your mom, but you also told us her family is part of their own crime ring. We just want you to, ya know, come back in once piece?”

 

“I’m fine.” As a group the foxes groaned and Neil found himself hit with two cushions and Andrews phone. 

 

“Get your stuff. We’re leaving.” 

 

“I told you I wanted to go alone.”

 

“And I told you that’s not happening.” Andrew stared at him, eyebrows raised as though daring Neil to challenge him. This was an age old conversation, one that had happened repeatedly and apparently was not ending anytime soon. Neil knew his mother wasn’t a danger, she had spent the better of eight years trying to keep him alive. Andrew, on the other hand, would not have it. Having listened intently as Neil recalled memories of his mother and her deft hands when she got angry, he was under the impression that this meeting wouldn’t quite go the way Neil had planned. Maybe it wouldn’t, but Neil had to believe that his mother wouldn’t fly all the way across the Atlantic just so that she could start a fight. He sent Andrew a flat look as he spoke.

 

“You’re not coming in.”    
  
Andrew clenched his jaw, clearly unhappy, there was a moment where nothing passed the two until Andrew finally cracked and rolled his eyes, throwing out a “fine,” before he grabbed his jacket and was out the door before Neil could even blink. 

 

“I...guess that’s your cue to leave?” Neil didn’t catch whatever else Nicky or the other foxes said, instead hastily pulling on his boots and grabbing at his coat, checking his pockets as he jogged out the door after Andrew. 

 

Andrew himself was leant against his car, cigarette in hand when Neil approached, but didn’t deem it necessary to say anything after Neil slipped into the passenger seat. They drove together in silence, despite the fact Neil had opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, unable to figure out exactly what they wanted to say.

 

The place his mother had requested to meet was a small cafe, just out of campus limits. It was quaint, quiet and a good place not to be disturbed. There were no spaces free close to the main door and so Andrew was forced to park just out of sight of the main windows. Neil was silently thankful, it would be a lot easier to focus on his mother if Andrew wasn’t sat staring angrily through the windows at him. Neil didn’t make a move to get out of the car, instead sat biting his lip as he fiddled with the hem of coat sleeve. 

  
“What?”

 

Neil looked over at Andrew who wasn’t looking at him, but was leaning his head against the cold glass window staring straight ahead. 

 

“This isn’t about me not wanting you to meet her.”

 

“You act like I care whether or not I met your mother. That is a mistake.” Neil scrubbed a hand over his face and thumped his head back on the headrest. 

 

“I don’t know what’s going to happen, I don’t know that we’re going to say to each other. I nearly convinced myself she was dead because it was easier than dealing with the fact I left her.”

 

“To save her life.”   
  
“I still left her.” 

 

“Your guilt is unneeded.” 

 

“It’s not guilt, it’s…” Neil trailed off, he wasn’t exactly sure what is was. Obligation sounded to clinical, though it was the only word he could think of. His mother was who she was no matter how many times he changed his appearance of his name. She was his constant, his strength, before Andrew was even an idea in Neils mind. He couldn’t let that go unaccounted for, the same as he couldn’t deny that he was no longer the son she had last seen those few years ago. 

 

“Hey.” Andrew looked over at Neil, bored expression that Neil knew all too well firmly in place. “Yes or no?” Andrew eyed him for a moment before lifting his head from the window and turning his body slightly face Neil.

 

“Yes.” Neil shot him a small smile and grasped at both of Andrews hands, raising them to his lips and placing featherlight kisses on his knuckles. 

 

“You are my home and I am not intending to leave you. Trust me on this.” Andrew pursed his lips, refusing to meet Neils eyes and instead opting to look somewhere behind him instead. 

 

“It’s not you I don’t trust.” 

 

“Then what’s the issue?” 

 

“Last time I let you go you you came back looking like you had gone through a shredder. I don’t intend to make the same mistake twice.” Neil let go of Andrews hands and watched as Andrew withdrew them into his lap, he turned his head, instead staring back out through the windscreen as if he could see through the brick wall of the cafe. He sighed, raising his own hand so he could hold Andrews chin and turn his head back to face him. 

 

“This isn’t the same thing. I  _ am _ coming back. I just- there are things we need to talk about and, and I need this closure.” Andrew didn’t say anything, and the tension didn’t leave his body, but as soon as he grabbed at the front of Neils Jacket and pulled him in, Neil knew that that was as good as he was going to get as permission to go. The kiss was short and Neil was in half a mind to lean back in and kiss Andrew again, but in a moment Andrew had let go of his jacket and pushed back at his chest, signalling him to get a move on. He slid out the car and stopped himself before he closed the door, leaning down with one arm braced on the roof and the other on the passenger door. 

 

“Give me an hour? If I’m not out by then you can storm the place for me.” Andrew didn’t look at him, simply flicked his fingers in Neils general direction. 

 

“You are more trouble than you are worth,” it wasn’t much, but Neil heard the  _ yes _ for what it was.

 

~

 

His mother was sat off to the far right side of the cafe, a wall to her back and the entrance in her sight. There were two steaming cups sat in front of her, one of which she was stirring slowly. There was no doubt in his mind she had noticed him long before he noticed her, a sure sign that he was beginning to grow complacent within his surroundings. Neil smiled nervously and tugged at the sides of his jacket, looping his arms out the sleeves as he hung it on the back of the chair. 

 

“Hi Mom.”

  
“Abram.” Her voice was just as he had remembered, it crawled through his skin and lodged itself deep inside his heart.  _ God he had missed her.  _

 

“How er, how have you been?”

 

“Well,” she didn’t elaborate more than that, and Neil picked up his own spoon swirling around the liquid in his cup. It was tea, not that he should have been surprised, it was one of his mother's own guilty pleasures when they had been on the run. They sat in silence for another minute, and Neil wondered what the point of all this had been if his mother wasn’t going to initiate conversation. 

 

“What have you been u-”

 

“What have you done Abram?” Her tone had dropped and Neil automatically flinched. Remembering all too well what happened when his mother let her temper flare while they were in public. The bite of her nails still leaving him with phantom pains up his forearms. 

 

“Surviving.”

 

“Is that what you call it?” 

  
“No. It’s not. I call it living.”

  
“Is there difference?”

 

“Could you tell it if there was?” Neil leant back in his chair, drink forgotten. His mother didn’t drop her gaze from him as she picked up her own cup, taking a slow sip from it. 

 

“I’m not sorry.” He watched her, studying the tension in her body. She laughed humorlessly at his statement, unsurprised.

 

“Of course you’re not.Stubborn boy. Always were. You nearly got yourself killed, and for what?” 

 

“A chance to be normal.” 

 

“You will never be normal Nathaniel.” She hit her mark, Neil flinched,hands balling up into fists. His mother had never called him that unless he was in trouble, had always refused to liken him to his father, and the dig at his past, hell, at his future with nothing but his name was the last thing he needed. He took a breath and gritted his teeth. 

 

“I didn’t know what else to do. After Cali I...” He stopped when he noticed his mother glaring out the window, his heart leapt and he moved to turn around when she spoke again. 

 

“So what now? The big secret is out, you think you can just go about everyday pretending to be Neil Josten, playing exy, going to college-”

 

“I am Neil Josten mom. And I do go to college and I do play exy. I don’t regret it, not one minute of the last year.” 

 

“Do you tell that to yourself every time you look in a mirror? If you’re uncle and I had gotten there five minutes later-” Mary caught herself, unable to finish the sentence. Neil swallowed thickly, everything at Baltimore had happened so fast and the days rolling after it were such a blur he had almost forgotten what his own mother’s reaction was to finding him in the grasp of his father in the first place. 

 

“You put yourself in unnecessary danger and for what? A team of rejects?” Neils expression flickered with surprise as Mary nodded. 

 

“I know about your foxes Abram.” She hadn’t said it any tone other than someone might state a fact. It wasn’t meant as a threatening gesture, but Neil could read the underlying message regardless.  _ I know more about them than you think. _

 

“They were worth it. If you knew them-”

 

“I don’t want to.” Neil tutted, feeling anger simmering beneath his skin. It wasn’t his mothers intention to purposefully push his buttons, but the inconsiderate tone she took when talking about his friends, the family he made his own, made him want to scream. 

 

“They’re important to me,” Mary gave him a considering look, finishing off the last dregs of her tea, Neils own sat cold and untouched. 

 

“Are they? Or is he?” Neil blanched. 

  
“What?” 

 

“Your blonde, what? Boyfriend? Friend with benefit? The one who dropped you off and who has hovering outside glaring at me for the last 20 minutes.” Neil spun around in his seat to look out the window. He could just make out the edges of the bonnet of the Maserati, two heavy booted feet crossed and dangling over the edge. Although Andrew wasn’t in a direct line of sight, he help no compunctions that Andrew had wandered while he was waiting. Neil could feel his face heating up, he’d never really had anyone to talk about with his mother. She had always made sure any hormone driven interactions were swiftly taken care of. His mouth was dry and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as he spoke. 

 

“He er- Andrew is-”

 

“Distractions Abram.” Neil turned back in his seat, staring at his mother like he had never seen her before. She had a teasing tone, though that soon died as soon as Neil replied. 

 

“He’s important to me.” His voice was quiet, but he knew that Mary could hear the emotion in his voice. Andrew was more than anything Neil had ever hoped to have, there were no words he could put together to explain that to his mother. 

 

“So was your father, once upon a time.” Neil watched as Mary flexed her fingers and ground her teeth. As though the memory of his father alone was causing her physical pain. “Look where that got us?” 

 

“Without him you wouldn’t have me.”

 

“True. Might have saved myself a lot of hassle. Abram listen to me. Men like them, who drown themselves in violence? They do nothing but cause you pain. Do not make the mistake of thinking he loves you just because he can handle all the nasty pieces of you.” Neil froze, he couldn’t quite comprehend that his mother was comparing his father. The cooling burn of anger that had simmered down rocketed through him. He couldn’t believe that this was the direction this conversation was going. There was a heavy set of something in his stomach, a sick feeling that worsened every time he repeated his mother's words in his head. 

 

“Don’t. Don’t ever say something like that again. Andrew is nothing like that.” 

 

“His track record says otherwise.”

  
“You don’t know him!”

 

“You will listen to me as I will only ever say this once to you. Everything you have done now up to this moment? Has been stupid and reckless, you cannot simply think that you can just blink and your past will just disappear. You are a Wesninski, you are a Hatford, and now you are a Moriyama play thing. This boy will not be able to protect you, even if he has somehow given you the illusion that he can because he beat up four drunks in an alley. You have one priority from this moment onwards, keep yourself breathing. Don’t drag anyone else down with you, because when it all crumbles you will soon learn that people will rather feed you to the dogs then help.” Neil stood up, chair screeching under the force of the movement. He gave his mother a cold look, hands shaking. 

 

“We’re done here.” He grabbed at his coat and turned, moving toward the door and his arms into his coat when his mother called his name. 

 

“Abram.” Neil stopped in his tracks, still unable to walk away. He had done those years ago, though he was beginning to realise that the regret he had carried around for so long meant nothing. Andrew was right, there was no place for his guilt. 

 

“I seem to have forgotten to change my money. I don’t they expect they accept pound as currency.” Neil looked between his mother and the barista behind the counter, who looked torn between actually stopping them from leaving without paying, or just saving herself the issues and letting them both go. Neil huffed, rolling his eyes as he made his way over to the counter. This was ridiculous, there was no way his mother wouldn’t have cash on her, and he idly wondered what game she must have been playing. He wrenched out his wallet from his jeans pocket and pulled out some notes, dropping them on the counter. He cast an apologetic look over to the barista, mumbling a quick keep the change and spun around to face his mother, but as he cast his eyes over the shop he realised she had already left. 

 

~

 

Andrew had been mindlessly going between flicking through his phone and smoking, sat on top of the Maserati’s hood. He certainly wasn’t watching the time and counting down the minutes until Neil would be coming out, leaving his mother in whatever hellhole she deemed good enough to crawl back in to. 

 

He wouldn’t deny it when Neil came out, as no doubt it had already been pointed out that he had been eyeing them both warily through the coffee shop windows. He trusted Neil, a thing he didn’t give away easily, but also this was something not easily gained, and if that meant that he had to keep a well trained eye through the barriers of glass between himself and Neil then that was that. 

 

This did mean however, that he was well aware of what Mary Hatford looked like, regardless surprise, was a foreign feeling he couldn’t say he felt often, but it sunk into his skin however when he looked up to find her stood next to his car. He gave her a considering look before he turned his attention back to his phone, aimlessly clicking buttons to make it look like he was in the middle of something.It was petty, they both knew it, but Andrew was an instigator and heart and he took great pleasure in the forced way Mary tried to make herself look calm. There was a twitch in her right eye that said otherwise, a twitch it seemed that Mary Hatford shared with her son. After about a minute he snapped his phone shut and pocketed it, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. He pointedly did not offer Mary one. 

 

“Is there something you need?” He cast a bored look in her direction and she shot him a bemused smile, before it dropped off entirely and became something sinister. Oh yes, there was that predatory parental instinct that Andrew was all too familiar with. 

 

“Listen here boy, if you hurt my son I will find you and I will hurt you in ways you would never have thought possible. Do you understand?” It was Andrews turn this time to look amused, he took a drag of his cigarette, savouring it before he blew smoke back directly in Mary’s face. She waved a hand, airing the smoke away but otherwise did not react. 

 

“Out of the two of us, it is not me we need to worry about fucking him over. You’ve done enough of that over the years.” Mary opened her mouth to speak when another voice interrupted. Neil stood, not a foot away from them, looking all for the world like a lost dog. His eyes flickered between Andrew and Mary, possibly wondering if he should be worried or angry.

 

“Mom?” Mary barely glanced over her shoulder at her son, still transfixed on Andrew, who ignored her by instead focussing his attention across to Neil. He waved a hand in Mary’s general direction, obviously signifying to Neil that he ought to direct any and all questions to his mother. Mary huffed a laughed, shaking her head 

 

“I can see why he likes you.” Finally she turned, looking at Neil. She gave him a once over before starting to walk away. “Keep in touch Abram.” 

 

~

 

“Do I want to know?” They both watched as Mary Hatford disappeared around the corner and into the busy sub street. Andrew slid of the bonnet of the car, throwing the butt of his cigarette on the ground and stamping on it.

 

“She’s your mother.” Neil hummed in response and Andrew didn’t even know he had moved until he felt a warmth by his hand and Neil slid his fingers between Andrews. Andrew looked down at their joined hands and then back up at Neil, whose body was still lined with tension, though there was a definitive difference now he had finally spoken to his mom. Andrew thought to ask, but assumed a conversation best left for another day.

 

“Home?” Neil nodded, squeezing Andrews hand tightly in his own. 

 

“Yeah, let’s go home.”


End file.
